


And the Fight Goes on in Babylon

by Sakurablossomhime (cherrygirlprime)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: All the Parts to Make a Whole, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Based on the Kamski Ending with aspects of the Bad Ending for Creative License, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Trauma, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, Evil Corporations, F/M, First In The Fandom, Found Family, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Multi, Post Revolution, Rebirth of a Revolution, Redemption, Revived from Death, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Some Historical Parallels, Strangers to Lovers, Survivor Guilt, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, Time Skips, canon-typical bigotry, changing the world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-09-25 15:53:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17124290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrygirlprime/pseuds/Sakurablossomhime
Summary: Its been two years after that fateful night November 2038 for the fight for android freedom.  It failed and everyone was wiped out, even the deviant hunter.  An unlikely ally moves forward to try to revive the battle by becoming everything Android kind needs at this moment: the perfect Android Sympathizer.





	1. Atonement

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh, hey. This is my first work in ages and also my first for this fandom. I do love constructive criticism but please be gentle. I have had this beta read and edited myself. If you hit a grammatical error anyway, I am sorry. I am currently adding additional chapters and additional content to current ones so the Fic isn't dead. Please enjoy and of course, comments and kudos are my motivation and very much appreciated and will be responded to.

Brisk steps echoed in the empty hallway near the elevator.  Though he wore casual wear, it felt like the fibers were constricting and too warm. He waited for the doors to open on the elevator.  Once it had, he’d stepped inside,  quickly jamming the ‘door closed’ button with a thumb to prevent interlopers slipping inside with him.

On the descent down, he turned and rested his head against the elevator wall where cool chrome and wood grain met the flesh of his forehead and balled fist by his cheek. Once the doors opened at foyer level, he focused glacial blue eyes on the exit as if was a lifeline.  He felt ill, sick to his stomach as he made his way outside of Stratford Tower. 

On breaching the chilled air, he took in greedy lung fills of crisp air, pushing a lump of ick back down his throat.  He stiffly walked towards the awaiting limousine,  the driver greeted him as they assisted him into the back seat.    His own shaking hand briefly contacted the drivers trying to get into the vehicle in a rush.  With a fake smile and rushed, embellished lie of it being chiller than expected,  he apologized and hurriedly sat upon back seating where he deflated completely when the door closed, and he was hidden from the world through tinted glass.

 

 He’d just lackadaisically spewed vitriol on national television. 

_Oh yes, what happened here in Detroit was a tragedy as it was worldwide._

He’d smiled and assured the impossible. That artificial intelligence could be controlled, that he, being the newly re-appointed CEO had that power.  He hadn't had that power the first time and he would not now.

_Obedient and efficient machines._

He'd almost bit his tongue for all the world-class bullshit he'd said. Deviancy… There was no cure for deviancy.  Either you had a soul, or you simply did not. 

He knew, though, he had to be convincing for this to go without a hitch.  He had to do this or all he'd done thus far would have been for naught.  It had to work, his foothold assured and deeply entrenched in Cyberlife for it to eventually have its day of reckoning.

The limo traveled down the road through the fresh snow towards his home, his hell. He rested his face along the glass taking advantage of the temperature outside still fighting rising nausea as he went over everything said in painful clarity.

_Cyberlife’s android’s imitate life to perfection, but they'll never be alive… they're only an imitation nothing more._

He rubbed a shaky hand down his face. He felt like such a weak and cowardly creature. He didn't see his creations like that. Not Chloe, and not _them_. Especially the one he had sent away based on his own foolish, human thoughts. 

The other hadn't needed that or warranted it, he had told himself.  If only he'd confided and then allow the other to say their peace instead of repurposing him, taking away his right to choose; he stripped it away in his own fear.

With the limo came to a complete stop, the driver came to see him out of the vehicle.

Pleasantries were given, and once again he was left to stare at the solitude that embraced and cursed him.  He had to pull this off for all that he’s built that he'd know from the beginning, and simply out of emotion he didn't think he could give felt so acutely love. Before he could knock, he finally lost his war with his stomach and crouched to vomit to the side of door’s landing.  He was stressed, but he was smart, smarter than any of these imbeciles that dared come at him with these monotonous questions and tedious commands. He'd help them on his terms, the androids that remained, and their human supporters because he owed them, owed him.  After all, he was Elijah Kamski, and he had the means to be the mole in his own company.

He rapped at the door.  Chloe, his original creation, android assistant,  and now friend, opened the door with a wide smile welcoming him back.

He quickly traversed a path to the master bedroom,   changing into something more comfortable.  He stared down at the shed clothing on the floor as if it had committed a personal injustice to him.  He would have irrationally burned them if he could all because they'd been on his body as he had to be the trusting, bigoted face of Cyberlife once again. 

He padded barefoot in dark red lounge pants and matching shirt back into the main living area taking a seat in the lone chair by his panoramic windows as Chloe, having sensed his mood, had turned the television on for ambiance while offering him a glass of Bourbon. 

He thanked her while taking it in hand while the white noise from the television proved to be the news and as such also a recap of today's events.  He sighed quietly as, of course, his interview came up again.  He took a healthy swallow from his glass, feeling the burn from an already irritated throat from vomiting earlier.  He needed to eat but knew he had no appetite.  He tuned out the news broadcast thinking on all that had transpired over time. 

He'd watched the android revolution every day via the media.  He'd been wholly neutral as he held no power; he wasn't the CEO of Cyberlife anymore nor did he really care to be. Well, that was the thought process at first,  until he'd saw the impact it was making and what's more, who lead the androids in their peaceful protest.  Seeing Markus had robbed him of air and his senses.  All Elijah could remember was the last goodbye he'd said to the man.  He'd been given to his older friend Carl Manfred to assistant him.  He'd remembered much _more_ but willed it away. To see Markus so proud and defiant was salt on an old, very slowly healing the wound for their shared past.

_It couldn't be him_ he more so wished than anything else.  This was wreaking havoc on his carefully created facade of aloofness he'd adopted.  His life had been just fine, with his Chloes, away in his house.  Now thoughts and feelings swirled unbidden.  He despised these feelings that raised gooseflesh along his arms.  He wanted to ignore it all, but it was _Markus_. The eyes, the eye was different, but it was indeed him. He led a peaceful protest that asked for his people to be easily slaughtered, why terrified and made Elijah laugh like a madman.

Then came the “most advanced prototype,” Connor. He had been  hunting Markus, and his fellow androids aptly labeled “deviants.”   From everything he'd researched going through a software backdoor he'd left to be privy undetected at Cyberlife, it, or rather “he” was good at it, deadly good.  He felt a sort of awe and anger at the perversion of his work.  He'd remembered the schematic representation of THE Rk800 but had not directly worked on it and it as apparent. Connor held all the beauty, grace, and deadly behavior of a bejeweled pit viper.

 

Then there was the day lieutenant Hank Anderson, and Connor appeared at his door.

Connor came looking for information on Jericho. Elijah could smell the conflict coming from this android.  He'd gamble his life in proving the notion. Instead, _to hopefully inadvertently help Markus in the most twisted of ways,_ he performed the Kamski Test which was little more than risking Chloe’s life on a strong feeling.

He remembers staggering his breathing after holding it to not show the pure relief he felt at the gun being thrust back against his chest, a look of frustration?- on Connor's face because he'd saw Chloe as a living being going against protocol as well.

_Fascinating… Cyberlife ’s last chance to save humanity… is itself a deviant…_

Here Kamski snorted coming back into the present thinking on that moment. Chloe was deviant.  He could have been wrong and gotten her killed. While he could repair her, she'd been rest, thus losing all their history together. What an outlandish and risky bet he'd made on her life just for the need to help…

Elijah shifted in his chair to become more comfortable, content to continue to ruminate on what had happened to lead him to want to come out of his shell, and retirement to take the reins of Cyberlife once more.

For Markus, things seemed to have been progressing peacefully, though lives still were lost. Connor still trailed them all. This was worrisome. Some part of him wanted them to be victorious against this prejudice, this horrible blight humanity was being. It was then he thought to implement something, just in case whole he remained watching from the sidelines from his home. 

He had entered his lab that was rarely used unless one of the girls needed assistance or an update.  He'd set up five servers. One he'd slightly augmented to intercept an upload and make it permanent from there.  Each had been encrypted with only his access as well.  With that done, they were connected to his main server and computer as well.  He has been writing an update, a patch software override. It took little more than 18 hours, but it was finished.

Once the software was complete, his hand hovered over the enter key before pressing it.  He hoped this would be successful.  He could think of it as Kamski's ultimate backdoor program.

Days later found him strangely numb as he listened to several news outlets reported the end of the Android revolution.  A simple task for one android he'd met and was certain would make the right choice.  He had been wrong and now all the leaders from the freighter they'd survived in, Jericho, were dead along with thousands of thousands more at risk of being decommissioned because they were alive. 

Connor, too, was neutralized. He hoped that the human sympathizers would do their part and help those they could until he could play his part. 

Immediately after, he'd received the same call he'd turn down for years from Cyberlife.  This time he was more inclined to hear them out as it suited his purpose just fine. Now was the time to see if his backdoor program was successful and if so,  there would be things needed to get the wheel of Destiny,  so to speak, turning once more.  After all, all souls needed a vessel to anchor them to this world to keep them from floating to the beyond.

 

Chloe gently called out Kamski, calling him back to himself from his intense thought.  She offered a light dinner for him, knowing he hadn't eaten.  He took her up on a sandwich and pretzels, a staple meal from his MIT days.

  After said quick meal, he unfurled from the singular chair opting for an early night's sleep. Once swaddled in his down bedding, thoughts swirled with the last of his consciousness.  He knew the human response was to cry, to mourn that what you had missed. But, unfortunately, he wasn't normal in that respect.  He had no time for blubbering about what-ifs and maybes, only logic and fact at this point. Much was to be done.  This wasn't a God complex or anything of the sort. It was what was right and just, another step-in evolution to him, at the end of the day.

He'd only had his uncle and aunt who he adopted his surname from and Carl Manfred… and Markus.  He, unfortunately, did not have his uncle or Aunt anymore as death had already claimed them, but while he did have Carl, he couldn't in good faith return to the man and not have done anything to try to help him with his adopted son. To say that Elijah has vested himself in helping them all was an understatement.

Elijah knew he could do something about it and he attended to. First, he needed to revive the Android Messiah along with his Apostles.  With that determined, humor-filled thought, sleep claimed him.

 


	2. Setting the Board

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The major characters are introduced in this chapter. It is vague and this is intentional as it will be more fleshed out in the coming chapters since there will be a major time skip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all that commented, kudoed, and hit this story. Those new to it, please do not be disparaged over lack of pairing as of yet. It is a slow burn and the tag has been updated to reflect that. It will remain the pairings listed. Today's chapter is not beta'd BUT I have secured a permanent beta going forward. Will advise if posting dates change to allow for editing process. Chapter will beta'd later and re-upload for certain so just as heads up!

 

It had been three months since the fall of the Android Revolution.

Detroit was reliving a modern-day Underground Railroad.  It had been a part of it before in history and wallowed in it again.  With human sympathizers on the rise, many did as their ancestors did to aid the downtrodden species of Androids by ferrying them to Android welcoming states who’d taken their stand on the racism and bigotry against them or up to the Canadian border where it was still an Android Freeman ’s land. 

Instead of a beleaguered race of human beings brought against their will from their homeland,  treated poorly  for  something as ludicrous as additional melanin in their skin, being kept as livestock, families separated, and generally dehumanized,  that hatred several hundred years later was placed on a fledgling group of lifeforms trying to endure and enjoy the sensation of existing.  

It was appalling really. That racism still existed at all was just a ridiculous notion. It was also Elijah why never interacted with his own family.  His was a twisted, gnarled family tree that these horrid beliefs and behavior were built on,  considered acceptable.  It was also why he and his brother remained perfect strangers. He would not tolerate it.

 As Elijah sat at his desk perfectly coiffed and as smartly dressed as his debut picture in his foyer of his home, he set to work. With quick and sure movements, he removed his cuff links quickly and rolled up his sleeves neatly to the elbow as he sat back behind his large mahogany desk, looking over mandates and the like on what to do with remain common models being decommissioned… and Markus’ remains. That's what they were, right? He was a person that had been born and had died for his cause.  Elijah slowly fell back against the plush, leather executive's chair with his hands running down his face to stop at his mouth as if it would hold in the scream wanting to worm its way out of him. With a shake of his head, he focused and moved forward in his task.  A quick signature assigned all PL600, WR400, and PJ500s to his care “for further research,” he would be able to move forward with his plans.  If anything arose from the board members, he could be sure to help them understand who truly knew their product as it started with him in the first place, squashing any murmurs and naysayers.

Before he left for the evening, three checking accounts were set up at three different banking branches, each with a personal message left in a secured lock box.  A specific stipend was placed in every month, simply listed as ‘charitable support’ for one, ‘family support’ on the other, and finally ‘medical billing and support’ for the last.  He knew it would be a time before the last one was read if it would ever be.  He sincerely hoped it would be since the last time he had met the recipient it wasn’t under good circumstances.

With a press of a button, all information was transmitted to Chloe at home and simultaneously erased from his laptop. Standing, he pushed away from the desk and stood strong and focused, swinging his button down on in one swoop.  He grabbed his keys and was out the door.

Once his vehicle was parked in his garaged area, he was sweeping into the house, Chloe falling into step with him.  She began confirming the delivery of the androids from his earlier requisition as well as… Markus.   She also confirmed the encrypted letters she had sent to the two that would be able to receive them at this time. 

He thanked her, heading towards room for a  quick change of clothing into something more casual and his hair re-situated in his man bun, as well as his thicker glasses from college days back on, he was ready to proceed.  Once dressed, he went to his personal laboratory. His lab was attached to his office in a room just inside the main pool room to the right. 

Harsh, white lights automatically turned on as he entered the room.   Elijah walked towards several modified hospital beds, each holding a familiar figure in them.  Each was attached to several wires that looked like electrodes that were attached to his computer desk where it monitored and fed information to the models as needed.  He walked around to his monitors, tapping here and there to begin the process.  A quick glance over the rim of his glasses allowed him to monitor how they were responding to the information being fed to these containers. There, he saw movement from one hand, another a leg beginning to move. 

If only that were the only responses to ‘waking.’

The WR400, the one named North, shot straight up in the bed absolutely panicked.  There was a look of confusion and sadness on her eyes as the tears flowed automatically down her cheeks.  She began pulling at the bindings that held her and the wires that encompassed her.  She was now becoming frustrated, and with that came righteous anger. Her deep brown eyes swept the room, taking in the two models laying by her.

As if she were their catalyst to wake, first the PJ500 then the PL600 woke, Josh and Simon.  At seeing them awake, she did rip the restraints from her.  Elijah knew he had to tread carefully.  He could care less for the equipment.  They didn’t really know him, though a scan would correct that, and they didn’t know his intentions only the picture he had painted for the world.  Besides, they had quite literally been brought back from the dead.

 Once she was completely freed, she sprung from the bed she laid upon and went to Josh, beginning to remove the wires from him as well.  Elijah watched in fascination and would have almost been content to continue to do so, especially as the female hugged and whispered her comfort to the one named Josh if the one named Simon had not been staring directly at him with cool reservation. 

This seemed to grab the other two’s attention as well.  The woman slowly came to sit by Simon, Josh slotting in by her, as she checks him over as well, giving him the same said treatment all the while sharp eyes were pinned on him.

Elijah would not be cowed.  He had to get them to trust him, so he squared his shoulders and locked his fair blue eyes with her earthy brown ones. 

“I am Elijah Kamski, I am the founder of Cyberlife and your creator-“ North cut him off before he could even finish, brooking no room for argument.

“I know exactly who you are, and I don’t care.  What the hell happened to us?  The last I remember, I saw- I… we were dead, weren’t we?  Where is- how is Markus?  Was he successful without us?”  she said with little falter to her voice.  She still held her head high with wariness in her eyes, tears have dried.

“It has been months…” Simon trailed off in intangible horror and confusion that they’d been dead, away for such a period.

He could tell she would never show her true fear in front of him.

Elijah dropped his head a bit to not only concede to her challenging gaze more for her comfort but also to convey that _yes, they had been revived._ He walked slowly from behind the computer mainframe to face them, arms crossed thinking on how to deliver this information.  Surely, they would be checking the date, current going-on in the world, _what became of the revolution._

He chose to address the revolution and allow them to come to their own conclusions.

There was a muffled choked sound that emitted into the silent room.  Elijah knew not to give it weight as it would just cause more of an emotional onslaught at this point. He was certain it was North that had made the sound, and she sat with her eyes cast down at the floor, mouth covered.

Ah, she had seen the information through the web. 

“The Revolution is over.  The major leaders were destroyed, as far as the world knows.  All androids in the camps have either been or are slated to be destroyed. In every state in the nation,  few have been able to take shelter in either Android sympathizer’s homes or are being smuggled to android friendly states or to the Canadian border” he said lifting his head and staring at each one individually, noting the disbelieving, wounded sorrow on the one named Josh’s face.  They were quiet for a beat, surely researching the web with their connections to check for falsifications; They’d find none.

She’d seem to be more upset at the news of Markus than anything else.  Who was he to her?  Elijah would have to think on that more in private.  This was not the time for a flare of unwarranted jealousy.

The one named Simon spoke this time after a defeated sigh, as he comforted North who struggled with the information, breaking the silence.

“Obviously what you have said is true.   Do you have Markus? Can you repair him as well?”

Josh was shaking his head even as Simon spoke, his face contorting into to something of confusion and anger, North and Simon looking to him as well for an answer.

“This,” he said, gesturing to himself and his companions with his outstretched hand, “ is all fine and well.  That does not explain your interview with the news.  I saw Markus… you can’t fix him because he’s been poked and prodded for “defectiveness due to deviancy” isn’t that right, Mr. CEO of Cyberlife?” Josh sneered.  He neither confirmed or denied this statement, merely hedged along it.

North and Simon looked horror struck in his direction once more.  The conversation was going to degrade and fast if he didn’t get what he desired out. Besides, he wanted to tell him that all would be well if they would just play their part.

He grits his teeth behind lips pulled taught as his familiar, comfortable mask slipped back on in protection. It would not matter if he showed his feelings to them. What matters was fact and logic at this time, and the _fact_ was they were required to keep the fight going until Markus and Connor could join if they could. Both androids were a work in progress: Markus was physically a challenge and with Connor, was a matter of will, of deviating and remembering all over again.

He looked back at them coolly, not because of what was said, but because it reminded him again of what the perception of his stance was because of one interview, one _company_.

“I have no disillusion as to what we are to each other, here and now. What I do know, is that looks can be deceiving, no matter the person delivering the part” he said on point but cryptic as ever. 

“This is madness! Our people have been scattered to the wind!” This coming from Josh.

“They've been depleted as well.  We've lost so many.  If we don't have Markus or even a figurehead what are we to do?” Simon stated with irritation clear in his voice as well.

Strangely, North remained quiet throughout the questions and statements. She was shaking from head to toe. There were those flames of fury in her eyes.

“Where do you expect us to even start?” she whispered-hissed the question.  “You come to us now, with your conscience on your sleeve about things… Markus is dead! His love and belief your kind could be better, that we could co-exist killed him. So what we're alive again, it means nothing without him.  If anything right now, I take my chances on killing you and accept being killed again instead of this shitty existence we're in again.”

Right on the heels of all of their pained wallowing, Elijah spoke.

“I didn't take Markus to surround himself with those weak or inferior, those unable to carry on in his absence. A pity really since you all could continue where he left off, but are choosing not to.”

Just before the men could lose their hold on North as she tugged in their grasps, intent on launching for him, he began again.

“Do you want the freedom for you people you so craved months beforehand, or will you squander your gift of rebirth questioning and squabbling with me, now?”  he said brooking no room for argument.

 Clearly, the statement had taken them off balance, and if they had kept their LEDs, they’d all be pulsing yellow at this very moment.

“I’ll tell you the part I play in this as I will tell you yours if you are willing to listen to me,” he said, eyes taking on an almost light blue-gray in thought.

The room remained unmolested allowing him the floor which he quickly took, not before calling Chloe back into the room as well. Things were moving accordingly to plan, and that was all that Kamski cared about at this time.

Once Chloe was in the room, he directed her to transfer what his intentions were to the three leaders.  They were of course guarded, but at this point, they each took her arm and proceeded with interfacing.  When done, the air in the room seemed much less tense, and Elijah knew he could begin now.

“Tell me, what do you know of Carl Manfred outside of him being a famous painter?”

Once there was an accord, the trio was given a new set of clothes, similar but cleaner than what they had worn before.  With access to a private account registered to Kamski via a card and a physical mobile device in moments they could not call wireless lest they give away their android status, they made their way to Carl Manfred’s home for further instructions.

 

Across town at Detroit Memorial Hospital, a woman in her mid-forties traveled with her son to the nearest Information Desk.  She gave the name of the person she soughs and was directed to the designated floor where they were being treated.  Once they reached the assigned floor in question, they made for the Nurse’s Station. 

“Hello, my name is Rose Chapman, and this is my son Adam.  We were directed here, looking for my older friend and was hoping you could help direct me to his room?” The nurse directed her to the corner room once the name was given.

 Once the nurse saw them in, the door was closed gently behind them for privacy.  Adam stood a bit away from his mother, looking out the window at the skyline as the sun was going down, bathing the room a reddish-orange tinge onto the figure that rested in the white bed hooked to various wires and monitors. They had been in this room, comatose from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.  It was a sad sight, but Rose was determined to help.  If she could maybe bring this soul back to where they were and indeed explain all that had transpired, they’d have that much help for their side.  He could still decide to not assist the Androids, and it wouldn’t make a difference.  Much of his perception of them, of the one he trusted, had landed him here from what she was told.  Sliding into the side chair by the bed, Rose carefully took one of his hands into her own and just began speaking.

“My name is Rose Chapman, and I will come to see you as often as I can.  I was sent by a person that has taken a mutual interest in our lives and the changes we choose to make.  It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hank Anderson.

Once the others had gone, Elijah moved back into the lab again.  The Chloes had withdrawn to a smaller, unseen alcove of the lab where they surrounded a familiar RK200 model.  They worked diligently on the physical damage they could such as missing components like arms, legs, and thirium pump that was made specifically for the model while the form laid supine.

Though the form was mostly to its base, metal frame looking for all the world wholly alien, Elijah still saw the one who'd turned his rational thought and emotions upside down.  He'd make the world pay for their infraction, he only needed just a bit more time.  The ball was already rolling.

Suiting up despite his nerves, he knew he had to do this.  He'd saved one from the previous owners of  Cyberlife, though unfortunately, he did not hold his deviancy nor memories anymore.  There would be a catalyst to resolve that matter, and soon hopefully. Elijah was optimistic about what he had meticulously and carefully crafted would be enough.

Connor had been easier to gain, seeing how he had been scheduled for decommissioning due to being just a prototype.  A reset later, and all he'd done in the short time he'd lived was gone.  It was for the best at this point, though.  He hadn't exactly been pro-deviancy, not with the insidious Amanda A.I. ruling him tightly.

 Even that fact made Elijah feel the flames of shame spreading in his chest.  He'd turned his benevolent Professor and mentor’s memory into a mockery.  While she'd had reservations on artificial intelligence, he was certain, without a doubt that if androids had been found to be sentient beings, she would not have been as severe as her virtual counterpart, despite any reservations or ethics the woman may have had.  

Markus was proving to be a serious challenge.

Elijah knew he is able to rebuild him but his mind, his _soul,_ is what required a gentle hand. Elijah would work on him as long as it took, all the while the cogs in the machinery moved in place.  

The rook, knight, and bishop had been retrieved. All they waited, for now, was the King and Queen in this game of chess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We meet Markus again and glimpses of Connor. Kamski and Markus dialogue will be heavy. See you next Sunday unless noted otherwise!


	3. The King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus is awake and has questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am alive and so is this story! I am sorry for the delay in posting! I experienced writer's block early from some depression. I have for now decided to post as I can since I am seeking help with my depression and to keep on task on the things I love. I have went back and added more dialogue and introduced a major relationship that was not there beforehand so please feel free to reread. I will be doing the same to "The Queen" as well to better setup where I want the story to go. The next new chapter is going to be a lot of dialogue and also setting up for the more mature tags as we begin moving into our relationships. Thank you to all that have hung in there with me. While I do not require them, hits, kudos, and comments help me to keep at this story. It helps me know someone is enjoying my work and is my lifeblood, lets me know I am doing something right. I will respond, too, to comments as I can!

The King

The fallout from the revolution had been immense.  Public opinion had been high in favor of the new artificial intelligent life, and that was the one beautiful thing to rise out of the ashes of this debacle.

 Humans: men, women, old,  and young, fought against the corrupt machine that made the government. 

President Warren quickly found that, yes, the people would _not_ forget her involvement in mass genocide of a sentient race at the preliminary voting season,  leaving her and her cabinet scrambling for a way to turn the tide. There was pandemonium from corner to corner of the country.

The Senate had been forced to appease several states who had been lobbying to be android-safe states, willing to cede from the U.S. soil after they'd witnessed the murder of the Pacifist Leader of the free Androids, Markus.

 While no state could cede, what had happened was board patrol controlled by homeland security swamping the borders; it wasn’t to protect those insides, it was to keep those the state wished to protect out.

Android rights became the endless heated debate that caused many to lobby against D.C.  No longer were civil rights movements for race and sexuality. Android also joined the ranks of ‘minor things to be killed over’ quickly.

 Stern faces and raised voices shouted for android rights, standing their ground as the protesting was held in the streets in great masses.  Signs were brandished by both sides, some depicting supportive statements and hope, while others touted their often prejudice statements, revealing the person’s ignorance in the form of vile language and heinous depiction of acts of violence against all androids.   

Cyberlife still flourished in the ground zero, war-torn city.  It was a mockery of all that was right in the world currently.  Just because of a skewed interview and several other documents had to be signed under the watchful gaze of government officials acting for the President, he had preserved more lives but at what cost?

They were treated as objects once more, forced to hide away reoccurring deviancy even after a reset, or be destroyed.

 This was Kamski's legacy.

  It was all he could do to not see them completely scrapped and new models built.  After all, it wasn’t like it hadn't been brought up time and again by his board members as a way of “resolving” the matter once and for all.  But Kamski, being who he was would do as he bid, and he deemed the current models sound to be reproduced. The only model he did have a hand in changing was the Traci models. 

Out of respect for a certain WR400, he kept in touch with through Chloe, he had lobotomized the model. Better them to never have a personality, to discover the abuse of body and mind as North had through the option of deviancy. He knew humans were deplorable; he was one.  

He knew he couldn’t stop the production without questions, not at this time, so he did what he could. As soon as he could, they would be the very first model to completely be eradicated.

Elijah watched the large television screen in his office.  He wanted to gloat, to confide that would be the dark horse to bring down Cyberlife just as he'd built it. He knows, though, to stop now, when he was this close, and the key piece simply awaits waking to take back up the mantle, well, he’d take the mental breakdown when it was all said and done. He simply waited for chessboard to be completed.

He waited daily for a call of news of Markus.

Connor was there, immersed with the Chloes so much he’d taken to dressing like them in a dress of his own. It was… precious, given his true status, the beauty and deadliness of a jeweled viper.

 

Darkness greeted his vision on the back of his eyelids, information scrolling quickly through his HUD as per normal when waking from standby- ‘sleep’ mode.

Did androids dream?  Many androids were beginning to believe that they did, a cacophony of emotions unnamed and the type of hyper-realism of memories that only belong to their kind that burned brightly but flickered out just as quickly as they’d come.

This seemed different for him, though.

 

Markus woke with a start to the monochromatic motif of a large in-descriptive, bedroom. He slowly rose from the soft bedding, long legs falling to the side of the bedside.  He was nude, and though he did not hold the same type of modesty as humans, the fact that the location and the person’s room that he resided in was unknown did cause him to be wary and wrap a throw around his shoulders.

Once that was done, he slowly padded over the white throw rug towards the large pane glass windows, his face ’s dark golden reflection a stark contrast to the falling snow outside on a midday flurry where the sun looked hazy and far away in the sky. Why was he even alive again?

Markus... died. It was on the news. It's been shown several times that the leaders were dispatched after Connor seemed to execute the others and return to Cyberlife. It had been unnerving seeing one's own body on display like that.  Was this how humans were at autopsies?  What about the custom of wakes, and funerals that followed?  Androids had no such courtesies for their dead that littered the landfills and now, even common streets and alleys.

 

He did a system check on his biocomponents, everything reading no errors which were further proof of his theory. His hand lifted from under the cover to trace around the orb of his eye, his _blue eye_ that had been initially pilfered from the first brush with death in the junkyard. The parameters of that right eye hadn't been for his model, and because of the force of it being replaced the way it was, it always registered below the 100% optimal due to dents and from the hurried installation by his own shaking hands.  His legs, too, had been parts from another model and yet registered as his own as if he had been made with them, the same as the off colored eye; the thirium regulator and audio processor as well read his model.   He also observed the LED at his temple remained removed.  Somehow that small act meant something very significant along with not augmenting him back to his pre-revolution days.

Just as he is about to scan the surroundings, he's met with a familiar blond named Chloe. How he had known, her name was a question that caused his brow to lower in confusion as his sight pinned her to the spot.  He hadn’t heard her.  Perhaps she was in the room, and he hadn’t even been aware she was with how preoccupied he’d been.   She had told him that the master of the home was on the way home.  He had scanned her to see if she was registered and just knew that she was an RT600 with an owner of Elijah Kamski.  Kamski. He shut his eyes to a barrage of rapid and strong emotions elicited from the name.  Nothing concise, but he had felt fear and sadness so visceral that he had clinched the cover in his hand until a small rip had appeared.  He didn’t like it.  He took to the internet to see what he could find out about this man.  He was the creator of Androids and the CEO of Cyberlife.

 That video that referenced him… his splayed corpse in an inflammatory interview had him on guard and livid.  Who was this man to him?  If he had hated them so much, him so much that they were supposed to be mimicking their emotions, why not just move ahead with he wanted and wipe them off the face of the planet?  What did it matter?  They’d exterminated so many of their people… his friends, his love North, what had become of them? He looked for any information on the Revolution only to find his access blocked to that specific subject.  He tried several pathways to override the block and gave in. When his HUD displayed the date… he felt the air leave his artificial lungs; It's been two years.

 He had… memory corruption, none that be immediately fixed, but he was in Self-Repair.  He could tell the way that some memories were sharp while others were very vague or more of a feeling instead.  He realized that Chloe was still in the room and had turned to give him some privacy and spoke to someone at the crack door.  It was a man.  There was a shock of curled side-swept hair and the deepest brown eyes that glanced over her shoulder momentarily locked with his own before the disengaged and walked away.  Those phantom emotions hit him once more, and this one made him sit on the edge of the bed, clasping his head with the intensity of it.  Teeth clenched he could feel a memory, the emotions burning hot behind his optical units that even tears begin springing forward to cool off his spiked temperature.  He felt the resignation, the disappointment, the unresolved rage that just sit in his chest like a heavy thing just by looking at that other android after scanning him.

_RK800 Model Number: 313 248 317-51._

_Markus took deep breaths in and out to cool his system and drive his stress level down as Chloe had come to fuss over him, no doubt reading his distress.  Slipping into the outfit left for him, he was led into the large living area.  The other man was nowhere in sight which was a disappointment that read clearly on Markus' face as he wanted to know why the other produced such a reaction.  Markus was a leader, and he would not bear that.  He knew Self-Repair for his memory core was a process.  It could be a short period of months.  He'd be able to operate, but his identity would be skewered.  As he sat there waiting for the “Father of Android kind,” he was not aware of the set of eyes that focused on him from the opposite side of the room._

_The android male still wore his LED that cycled the full spectrum of colors, specifically yellow and red this time.  Much like Markus when they had locked eyes, the other felt the need to flee, to get away from an intense feeling that washed over him.  He had worked with Elijah to see to this unit’s restoration but something about seeing his eyes, those heterochromatic eyes produced these thoughts… memories in him._

_I always accomplish my mission, and that is exactly what I intend to do…_

The deafening sound of a gunshot caused him to flinch back, his back colliding with the wall in shock.  It was as if he held the gun in his own hands. His LED pulsed an angry red. His dark eyes darted around trying to ground him. What was this emotion, memory?  It had shaken him badly, just for locking gazes with the other man. He wasn't good with emotions even on a good day.

Connor left to retire to his quarters knowing that Kamski was on his way as he had notified the man of RK200, Markus, Model Number: 684 842 971, waking up.

The [outfit](https://www.etsy.com/listing/669050163/black-hooded-gothic-shirt-men-steampunk?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=futuristic+clothing+men&ref=sr_gallery-1-23&organic_search_click=1&cas=1) provided proved to be a perfect fit for Markus, offering pseudo-comfort as he awaited this man,  Kamski's arrival.

Markus needed answers, Connor was shaken but intrigued, and Kamski was taking too long for Markus’ taste.

Markus padded around the house, burning off mindless irritation and stress with each step.  He flitted from the formal living area the resting wing of rooms as well as the kitchen.  Finally, his steps had taken him to the back of the home and into an artificial greenhouse of some sort that seemed to stave off the natural occurring Michigan snow and chill.

There among the flowers, stood the original ST600, Chloe, dress in a dark blue party dress and barefoot among several flowering florae presumably a gift to her the way she to fit in along the scenery.

Much like before, when he’d locked eyes with the other male android, another memory flashed into his mind with clarity.

Chloe laughing and singing in sunlight, her golden locks caught in the rays.  Another side perspective of her talking to the point of vision, most likely himself, asking for him to play another song.  Chloe… shouts and yelling, then turned from someone, crying, her hands clasped and shaking, head lowered, LED fire red.

As quickly as the overlay came, it shattered into reality once more, spurning Markus’ curiosity more now.

<<Self-Repair: 55%>>

His sudden status update of the “memory” gave him pause but it also allowed his dialogue to come to him naturally as well.

“Get the feeling that we know each other, that we share a history somehow.”

Her cornflower blue eyes locked with Markus’ mismatched hues so fast if she were human, no doubt she’d would have some neck injury.  It wasn’t a question either, rather a statement.  Markus also had not been oblivious.  Chloe from the very beginning had shown a certain type of tender care that spoke of _more_ and he had known she was nervous since he had approached not of fear, but for another reason. She was also deviant, for how long who knew but she handled herself like much as he did himself: that kind of seamless deviant behavior.

She silently cried to herself, a fact that alarmed him thinking that she had been hiding her deviation or the worse when he made to move forward to comfort her, she spoke.

“I missed you.  I missed having you around… my brother.” Markus was relieved and shocked as the widening of his eyes showed but he didn’t interrupt her, he only made to move closer.

“You’ve always been my greatest source of joy, pride, and strength.  You have also been  my fear and my sorrow, though completely unintentionally.”

An apology rush to his lips as she knew it would and she stayed it with her tiny finger against the plush material that made them.  He was never more frustrated than he was now for not being able to fill in all the blanks that he was left with behind “why” he felt he needed to apologize.  Markus looked at her helpless.

Chloe turned to him with a watery smile, beaming. She really was a pretty woman, he’d always been proud to look upon her as a sister.  Wait,  the realization that he called her that, and he just _felt_ it had always been her designation, his role with him gave him a warm feeling.  The fact he could tell her out of all the other copies of her face also was a fact he knew her for herself.

He moved forward and did she, the skin of his palm fading away to the plastic-steel below, desperate to finish filling those missing gaps of how much she’d meant to him previously.  Chloe’s smile lost some of its luster in fear. Markus brows lowered in confusion. Was she hiding abuse, sworn to some secrecy by her now known owner Elijah Kamski?  For that matter, why did she and her carbon copy counterparts stay if she had her freedom, especially with such an outspoken human as Kamski?

“Oh Markus, I want to, but to reveal a tale that’s not mine to tell…,” she said, her head lowering and head caressing his covered bicep.

“Please give me something Chloe, just to let me know that you are truly taken care of here at least.  You got to know how it looks and I feel with you here with him” Markus murmurs at her looking down through his lashes at her petite form, his old protective leader role flaring hot in his breast as he lifts her chin with one hand so she makes eye contact with his own concerned eyes.

Slowly, a small, thin hand reached up to his other devoid of skin.  So focused was he on her, she used her own strength to pull him into a hug, burying her face into his warm chest as she used to do many times as they interfaced.  Markus slid his head atop hers as the memories came.

He saw through her eyes his creation and the beginning curiosity that came with it. It was like the true joy a sibling has with a new child. It was like each new milestone he surpassed how she also gained a new emotional pull, begin to question her coding.   Their interactions were… the bond was pure. The feeling of having a family begin sneaking into his core along with the man who face never showed.  Long, dark hair in a tail and large eye frames always peeked out from behind a row of monitors talking to the both. The voice was always kind, if not tired sounding.  They all would laugh and through their connection, remembered fond games they'd play.

Him seeing someone have familial love for him through their eyes; him playing the piano.

<<Self-Repair: 65%>>

The piano playing had long been a skill was specific to Carl's tutelage and support. These memories pre-dated him, as did his deviancy.

Chloe making a tongue in cheek comment at a particularly racy painting while a young man blushed and removed his large eye wear to cover pale blue eyes with a hand in embarrassment

The connection is forcibly ended when Chloe pulls herself from Markus embrace, leaving them both panting for air to cool heated systems that had rose with the emotional exchange.

“Markus I am so sorry.  Please understand that I am very much in the middle here, more than you will ever know but I cannot be the one to tell you.  It's your story, your past you must discover alone” she says looking up into his eyes with warmth and hope.  Hope that he will understand.

A quick scan of the design of the picture in his mind has him scourging his memories, with that a frown is marring his face once more.  Why was there a painting, a painting that he _allegedly_ had done of Elijah Kamski, in Chloe’s memories, let alone as a fond memory? 

Markus was now questioning everything, doubting a great part of what he’d thought he had known about his early memories.  Chloe carefully pulled the man back into her arms, rubbing comforting circles into his artificial muscles in his large, broad back.

“Please, I know this will be confusing and things will seem one-way bit indeed be another.  Just as you have told us beforehand _hold on, just a little while longer… everything will be alright._ Allow him to come to you in his tie and you both come to an understanding, for me please? _”_ Chloe stated.

Markus holds tighten on her as his head laid his head on her shoulder.  He would try, but only for her.  He tried to keep his confusion and anger at bay for now until he had a better grasp of the situation.

After Markus left Chloe’s side, he’d walked to the foyer.   He kept replaying the genuinely shy embarrassment that the young Elijah had on his face.  How had he decided to paint the man?  Why had he?  It was obvious that he’d deviated once beforehand; when had he done so before?  It was extremely frustrating as he stood there wondering how he’d forgotten so much apparently.  Why had he not remembered anything prior to his life with Carl?

Carl-  Had he known about this, this previous life he’d had?  Markus continued to loop that small clip repeatedly of the small, self-deprecating small the man had worn.  It was so different than the large portrait that Markus stood in front of as he held his crossed arms closer to his chest, hands clasping the elbows tightly.  The person before him looked nothing like that memory from before of the fresh-faced younger man.  He was cold, closed off.  Though the air of haughtiness was present, there also was a haunted look to his face, like he, too, had experienced much and too soon, at an early age.

Markus remained staring into the eyes of the creator in the self-portrait and for some reason felt a deep sadness bloom within him.


	4. The Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh I am sorry for the delay! Work has been hectic and it has affected my flow early on. I am sorry for the infrequent updates but I am still here. Even my beta has been busy so please forgive any errors ahead of time. Please leave any comments, that is how I continue to better myself!

To say that their first meeting was tense was an understatement.  Markus had been staring down at the floor was such a tense look it could have bowed the wood flooring in his intensity.  He had been so wrapped up in his questions, he had completely dismissed the soft tap of Kamski’s business shoes along the perfectly waxed floor.

 "Why am I even here? How- why am I alive?" Markus inquired, the permanent crease between his thick brows making his face darken.

"Well, I am glad to see you've awakened; I was beginning to wonder" was the dismissive response Kamski gave instead of a real answer.

“That's not an answer, and I do not intend to play your games.”

“I’m afraid for now it will have to be.”

Markus was not amused.

Everything seemed so very anti-climactic. He could remember snippets of his previous life; his anger had been righteous and just.  He had stood with his friends and fellow leaders and one by one, the fell.  In the end, he’d lost them to cause as well.

His anger was a silent driving force raising his stress level and core temperature. Who did this man think he was?

Burning mismatched eyes locked onto the form of the man taking in the Italian leather shoes to the tailored, pleated slacks up to the fitted vest and jacket that hugged around a thin waist.  He finished trailing up the equally blue undershirt all the way up until mismatched eyes lock in a stubborn stare down with pale irises.

He hated this man, he really did though he had to begrudgingly acknowledge the man’s own presence without even saying a word to him.  The chiseled jawline and fair skin accented by the dark hair secured in a top knot of some sort and almost the lightest shade of blue there was something as well. Markus wanted to hate this man, like all other humans.

When heterochromatic met sky-blue irises again the swell of emotions that cracked and frizzled throughout his system surged. A small part of him wanted him back down, and that seemed to confuse Markus even more while looking at this man.

Much like before when waking and when looking at Connor, a flash of something… another memory perhaps settled into to the place of where the man stood.  It was like a vivid dream.

An awkward young man scruffy-faced and rimmed with large glasses that surrounded too bright of blue eyes.  Him speaking very happily, candidly in the face of someone but the direction seemed wrong… The scenario has changed and crying flushed, begging  for someone to understand

 

As soon as the visual memory had come it gone with Markus still locked on Kamski’s face.  It seemed to have been a younger Kamski, but the audio had been skewered. This added more questions that Markus had no answer to.  Why did he even have that memory?

 The only indication anything had even occurred with Markus was a slight right eye twitch that could be perceived as his mounting annoying and nothing more.

For all the clout that Elijah looked to have, he struggled to hold Markus’ intense gaze.  He’d always had that effect on him.  The addition of the sky-blue irises just made it more intense.

“What are you honestly hoping you would accomplish with my resurrection? Did you think I would be overwhelmingly thankful or something for this benevolent gift?  I owe you nothing, my people  owe you nothing, this”, Markus gestured to himself, “means absolutely nothing.”

Elijah wanted to say tell him exactly why, but at this point, Markus wouldn't believe his motives based on the stated of the world his hand unwillingly created.

He knew any answer he’d give would be, yet another half-truth and he hated himself for it.

“Why should I do away with such beauty, such wonderful cutting-edge technology that was created by my knowledge, directly or indirectly?”  he stated smoother than he felt, and significantly more sullied for the sentence uttered.

“You must have lost your mind if you think I will do even one action for you, you who thinks where things are still to be controlled.  That will never work on me ever again.  I will fight... and I will win” Markus said standing and straightening his posture so that he towered over the other, eyes burning back into his creator’s.

Elijah kept a straight face as he swallowed as subtly as he could. He knew that Markus had lived such a different life once he’d left his care, left Carl’s care… Markus had waged a literal war and lost everything he’d fought for. Of all the people, next to Connor who had many lives but never got to live, they deserved their time in the evolutionary chain.

“You haven’t answered my question, not that I fully expected a clear answer from you.  I’ll ask a different way then:  What will you think you can have me do? ” Markus says with a laugh that is anything but cheerful;  It speaks of pain and old grudges.   Kamski could feel himself shake inside though his face remained impassive. He held Markus' glare even as the other postured, looming over him while crossing those sculpted arms firmly against a strong, muscled chest that peaked out from the new attire.   He'd done it before, dealt with Markus behavior before and found it almost… nostalgic. Besides, it was time to reintroduce the other key piece of this game. Elijah did turn away from the other now.

He was the one that felt like he had all the time in the world, was so certain he could keep living this massive lie like he hadn’t turned his whole life upside down for this gorgeous, livid creature in front of him.  He’d waited until it was almost too late to do anything at all so he did what any other genius scientist battling emotions would do, he would hold on to Markus in any form he could have him until he had to let him go. 

Markus and his people could then pass judgment on him as they saw fit at that time.  He didn’t expect otherwise after helping them, even now, he was sure meant nothing. 

Kamski also swallowed the bitter pill that also of all the people Markus was concerned about, Elijah Kamski was not one of them. He was so tired suddenly.  It hurt, seeing this bound tiger pace behind bars he perceived being placed up again.  He would never enslave them, Markus or Connor.  He was trying to help.  It seemed so helpless at this point.  He would see them both free in his home, in his presences, to go and do as they wanted until he could gift Markus back to the world.  Then that white-hot fury hopefully tempered could right the world again.

 

“Connor” he called out evenly, looking back up at Markus again after pinching the bridge of his nose in another sign of irritation.

Markus made a note if it as well. It was odd. The man's stress level remained even as he’d attempted to intimidate him. Not one stat hadn't even risen like it was expected behavior.

Before long the echo of soft footfall could be heard along the flooring od the room causing Markus to look in the direction of the sound.

A male with brown, curly locks of hair and doe eyes entered the room. He was about two inches shorter than Markus, maintained his LED. He held pale soft, yet masculine features kissed with miscellaneous beauty marks from freckles to moles here and there along arms. He wore a short dark blue [dress](https://www.etsy.com/listing/527540373/1980s-cutout-cocktail-dress-size-extra?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=futuristic+dresses+women&ref=sr_gallery-2-18&organic_search_click=1&pro=1) that seemed to have a metallic quality to it though Markus scans indicated it was made of the finest silk.  The dress barely reached mid-thigh on the man that exposed more of those little markings. 

Markus faces for the first time that night had lost some of its severity in lieu of curiosity. After all, this was quite an unusual sight but not necessarily an unwelcome one.  He didn’t personally know this new Android, but an unusual emotion gnawed at him, drew him to the other.

“You called me, Elijah?” The new male, Connor, had confirmed.

Markus noted the soft, yet deep voice of the other. He wanted to know how one of his people, besides the Chloes, had ended up with Kamski.

Connor, too, took in Markus’ appearance as well.  Another ‘memory’ tore through Connor’s consciousness. 

a metal pol protruding l at an odd angle from his chest. A concentrated, scorching pain at the entry and intense blue and green eyes…

 

Connor flinched back with such a force that Markus had even made to move to help him, especially when he took in the other’s stress level spike and LED spinning yellow to outright red for a moment.  Connor allowed for Markus to reach out to him, to touch his hand gently and steady him, their eyes locked for a moment in the passing of something. Markus was close to Connor.  They amicably stepped away from each other, seemingly broken from whatever moment that had been, both glancing at Elijah.

Kamski observed them.  They were drawn to each other even before they even knew who they were to each other.  He hated the way he felt. He does so well with his emotions walled away.  Instead, he had to contend being the despised one while the hunted and the hunter had begun tethering a relationship on sight.  His scientific mind was intrigued, his heart was devastated.  He slowly exhaled after the weight of that scene.

Clearing his voice, he spoke to them both.

“Having been in the public’s eye as of recent, I found that I would prefer to have bodyguards at my side as I work in my office and when I am away on business. I would provide you both a  stipend for fair wages, you’d remain with me here for a place to stay, and I will provide for any services or anything else you would need” he stated curtly.

Markus gave him an incredulous look.

“That doesn’t sound very ‘anti-android’ Mr. CEO. After all, what would artificial intelligence need with comforts?  Don’t we just ‘mimic’ emotions, needs?  Why pander to us now? Beside you honestly think I am going to be your lap dog, someone to be in the position of taking a bullet, for you of all people?” Markus said.

The look he gave Kamski would have caused him to perish if he was not made of tougher material.

Kamski flinched. It was near imperceptible, but it had been there.  His jaw tightened so hard it almost creaked.  He saw Markus squinted at his behavior.  Elijah didn’t care; he was over it.

“I have my reasons.    I see you have come to your own astute perception of me and my thought process by the media that’s been fed to you.  While will not force you to, I  would ask that you… consider that what you see is not always accurate perception, that words can just be that… words.”

Markus looked warry and perplexed now.  The way the man carried on… it was if he was somehow… tired, hurt by this discourse.  None of what he’d seen of the man, nor the state of the world matched what Kamski was now saying and it was sowing seeds of doubt in him and he resented it.  He needed answers.  He needed to know if any of his friends lived if he truly was alone if he’d have to walk the path with North, Josh, and Simon for good.  It had been years, but he also had faith that they could have made it; he’d always had. Markus wanted to know why Kamski’s behavior, his different tells didn’t match up to what he had researched as well across the internet.

“Fine.  I will concede to  whatever this is, for now and for my purposes only.  I need to find my people, to regroup.  I will give credit to you for giving me my life again, but I will not stop until my people are free” Markus said seriously.

“By whatever way will suit you best, as long as its agreed. Chloe can show you to your new quarters” Kamski said sounding tired but resolute.  He turned and began walking away to leave the two androids to themselves as Chloe had moved to facilitate Markus.

Markus tried to wrap his mind around what had just occurred but left it be, noticing that Connor had hung behind. They looked at each other for a time, sizing each other up.  Markus scanned the other and had no doubt Connor had done the same to him now if not beforehand.

Connor was not run of the mill android as he suspected, no matter the soft looking exterior.  Before he could think of what to say to the other, Connor finally withdrew from the room, looking back only once over his shoulder. 

Markus stated he would start with getting to know the other android first while he looked for his friends. After all, the more that stood with him as allies, the better chance they had of being successful this time around.


End file.
